100 OneShot Challenge
by Stormeon
Summary: Prin Pardus's 100 OneShot challenge. 100 Oneshots, each with a different and unique theme.
1. Injured

injured

Her nightmares had been plagued with wolves.

_"Do you dare go against the wishes of your family? Do you want to be cast out to the wolves?"_

She was walking down a narrow forest path, dark and shrouded. She felt the need to turn around, but she wouldn't, she must not turn around. She could hear the growling noises from behind, only the tiny light that she could see ahead kept her from reacting to it. The she-cat padded faster, her paw-steps left blood on the shadowed forest floor.

_"Do you want to be cast out to the wolves?"_

She saw sunlight reflecting from the icy mountains, making a bright appearance in the sky. The meadow below swayed back-and-forth, rich with the smell of earth and fresh berries. Wind stirred the grassland, and they rippled like water. She could see the dark shapes of her littermates beside her, they moved closer and pressed against the she-cat. The cat purred, smiling at them with glee.

Just as she began to speak, her voice no more than a mere whisper, everything began to shatter. Suddenly, the bright sunlight was gone, and valley below smelled of earth and death. The great blue sky was destroyed by large claws, and everything was gone. She could see the gray shapes, and she heard the growling.

_"Do you want to be cast out to the wolves?"_

"Quinn, wake up!" the mew was hushed, but the irritation in their voice was obvious. "Today is the day that the _ceremony_ will take place, remember?" the black-and-white she-cat nudged her.

"I'm getting up," Quinn snapped, still reeling over her dream. "I know what today is. Today is the day that my betrothal to my beloved will finally be validated." Quinn's voice was proper and curt, matching her sleek appearance. She gazed around the spacious mountain den, specifically private for the Princesses, imagining the bright lights she had seen in dreams.

"Yes," Tifara nodded her head in agreement, watching her sister with an intent gaze. "Exciting day, isn't it?"

"I suppose," Quinn's voice was uneasy, she had to pick her words carefully. Cats had ears in the most unexpected of places, and that meant she couldn't even voice her opinions to her own sister.

"My beloved Prince Bierce will be a great mate for me, and I love him with all my heart already."

_"Quinn, do you dare defy my wishes?"_

"Really? You _love him_, already? If you ask me, I think he's an arrogant snob." Tifara voiced her opinion, her spotted tail lashing at the floor. "It pains me to see how crazy you are for him."

Quinn's eyes narrowed, although Tifara's outburst had been entirely random, it wasn't unexpected. The black-and-white she-cat had never taken her duties as seriously as she should, at least not in Quinn's opinion.

"Why bother waking me up for the ceremony if all you're going to do is complain on how it's such a horrible choice?" The black she-cats amber eyes flashed with anger, but she wouldn't show it. She was a princess, and it was her expected duty not to.

_"Quinn, remember where you've come from."_

"Orders," Tifara replied her tone bitter. "You know as well as I do that going against Pegard means that a storm is on its way."

"Pegard may be much at times," Quinn tried to reason with her sister, selecting her words with extreme caution. "But he is the King of our family, and he would never intentionally try to hurt us."

"He's putting you in an arranged betrothal, making you become mates with a cat that you barely know! Isn't that harming you enough, sister?" Tifara's voice was now transitioning from anger to pure concern.

"You may not admit it, Quinn, but I know that this isn't what you want." the black-and-white's eyes were clouded. "We both know that Pegard isn't doing this because he wants you to be happy, it's all political. He knows that setting you up with the treasured Prince of the FireBloods means that our two families can become allies, and prevent any future problems. It also helps Pegard with his own obsession of having to rule over everything."

_"Quinn, I could ruin you if I wanted, you know that."_

"Just be quiet!" Quinn couldn't stand listening to this anymore, she gave her chest a few quick-licks before padding around her sister swiftly, moving with elegance in each hurried step.

"You're just going to deny everything, are you?" Tifara's voice was filled with hurt. "I can't see you do this to yourself, Quinn."

"Stop, _please_." Quinn had to force herself to pause in front of the entrance, she had to face her sister. "I know that you care about me, sister. I care about you as well." Quinn's voice held little emotion, her voice almost monotone.

"But what if you were chosen to be the heir instead? Or what if Pegard pairs you off with some Lord or Prince from another family?" Quinn's questions were blunt, and an awkward pause ensued.

"I don't know." Tifara admitted, facing her.

"You would do as Pegard would say," Quinn answered for her. "He's all we have. Mother is dead and Claw is gone." Quinn's words held thick in the air, it was rare occurrence for them to mention their mother and brother, especially the latter.

Tifara was silent, she looked away. Perhaps she saddened at the mention of their immediate family, or maybe she was looking away because she knew that the black she-cat was right. It was impossible to know.

"Whether you like it or not, I'm eight moons old and can make my own decisions. I choose to follow our family path and follow orders. That's what Pegard wants, and that's what mother would have wanted."

"Are you sure about that?" Tifara asked, her eyes wide.

"I am," Quinn spoke truthfully to her sister. "We are the sister Princesses of the ColdBlood Family, the most royal, noble and respected family here in the mountains. We can trace back our dynasty to the first cats that settled here, to the very first king." Quinn repeated what she had been told all her life, because it was their life, whether they were happy with it or not.

"I love my beloved Prince Bierce with all of my heart, and I know that he will be the strongest and most brave cat in the mountains. He'll love me even more than I already love him, and we will live happily ever after."

Tifara only nodded. "Yes, I would only imagine so."

Quinn smiled, moving forward to give her sister a quick lick on the ear. She had managed to finally make Tifara see in the correct way, or at least act like it. That would keep her safe, for now.

"The FireBloods should be here soon," Quinn noted, examining her appearance for another time. "We should head out, Pegard will want us to be out to welcome them."

"After you," Tifara murmured, avoiding looking into Quinn's gaze. "It's your special day, after all."

Quinn offered a smile to the black-and-white she-cat. "Why, thank you." Quinn purred, not hesitating to continue moving forward towards the exit, Tifara not very far behind.

_"Quinn, you will be the FireBlood tom's mate, whether you like it or not. Remember where you come from, we are the ColdBloods and you will not defy my wishes. If you choose to, I won't hesitate to cast you out."_

_"Now tell me, do you want to be cast out to the wolves?"_

As Quinn exited the mountain den with her sister, Tifara looked on with complete hurt. Quinn noticed this, but she wouldn't react. Tifara would learn to deal with whatever pain she had eventually, and she would become a strong Princess, she had the ColdBloods in her, after all.

Quinn muttered to herself as she stepped out into the chilly weather, a light summer snow was falling from the sky. She repeated her family words in her head, as she believed it brought her strength.

_Fire, Ice, Honor._

She could now see the FireBloods were arriving, their bright pelts were easy to spot in the pale environment. She also spotted the darker shape of Pegard, waiting to greet the newcomers, heavily guarded with servants on either sides of his body.

She was more than hurt now, she felt broken, injured. But she would not show this, she was a Princess of the ColdBlood Family, as was her sister Tifara. They would not be weak. She would not be weak, at least not today.

She wouldn't allow herself to be cast out to the wolves.


	2. Sinking

sinking

"We should head back soon," the small white kit suggested, a bit of urgency in his high pitched mew. "It's beginning to grow dark." he added, staring up at dulling maroon sky.

"Does the dark frighten you, little one?" an older cat responded, a hint of a smile on her lips. She could see that the kit was trying to hide his fear, if he had any; she liked that about the adamant little tom.

"No, the night can't hurt us." the kit responded bravely, almost with a hint of authority.

"Exactly," the flame-colored she-cat praised. "If anything, the night should fear you."

"Me?" the tiny tom squeaked in confusion. "How can the night fear me?"

The flaming she-cat was completely caught off guard by the kit's innocent question. She had spoken so surely, only to be brought back down by a question that she had no answer for.

"Be quiet," the ginger she-cat snapped at the tom. "Don't forget who's here to train you and watch over you! You still have much to learn, now _come_." the she-cat glowered over him, daring him to snap back.

The kit flinched, his blue eyes shameful. Right now he looked weak and afraid. She would have to make him stronger in the coming moons; she would have to make him realize that he's not some weak Clanner anymore. Sleetkit was to be her prince; her heir. So that's what she would make him.

_"Princess, thank the gods! You're safe!" a dusky brown tom raced to her, his pelt stunk of blood and his eyes were wide awake, brimming with complete terror. "We have to get you away from here!"_

_"What's going on?" the Princess demanded. "Where's my family?"_

_The tom wouldn't reply, he only began to push her away, making her stumble backwards. "Please, Princess, we must go!"_

_"No," the she-cat growled, her ginger fur spiked in anger. "Tell me what's going on!" the she-cat's green eyes flashed with venom. "And where is my family? My mother? Father?"_

_"The ColdBloods," the tom finally managed to mew, beginning to stumble over his words. "T-they attacked. We were c-completely unprepared. They're all dead. All of them." the servant's voice was breaking. "Thank the gods you're alive!"_

Training had started to become more difficult with each passing day; Sleetkit was growing stronger, but he also seemed to be growing more distant. She worried about this, her Prince needed to have complete faith in her. He could easily dodge her blows and put up a good fight, he could read through her chicanery and he was more independent, going off on his own occasionally.

He was still a kit, barely six moons of age, but he almost seemed mature. He seemed ready to do whatever she asked him, no matter what the cost. Perhaps, Sleetkit becoming more distant was him slowly not needing her anymore.

Bella flinched inwardly at this, and she decided not to dwell on this subject anymore.

"Today, I think we should continue to work on your defensive techniques," Bella mewed, having approached him at the start of another early morning. "As they say, the key to a good offense is defense."

Sleetkit gave a slight nod, raising his head up to look at her, still in his nest.

Bella murmured under her breath, disappointed at the white tom's lack of enthusiasm. "Then what are you lying around for?" the ginger she-cat mewed pointedly. "Let's go."

_The she-cat trudged on, cold wind beating against her fur, sending shivers down her spine. Only a few days had passed, but it felt longer than that. She glanced at her sole companion, the dusky brown tom, his condition was worsening by the second. Still, he stood by her and her family, his loyalty was unwavering. As much as she respected him for that, she wondered how foolish he must be._

_"Princess, are you okay?" the tom croaked, slowly padding against the wind current to reach her. "Do you need to rest?"_

_"No," the fiery cat replied, continuing to move on. "We must leave the mountains. I'll gain back my strength and the NightBloods will rise again. I will avenge my family, I swear it."_

_"I believe in you, Princess." the tom rumbled. His gaze appeared to locked on her._

_The Princess snorted in reply. "I don't need you believing in me. I will take over because I'm powerful, and I'm not afraid to crush any cat that would dare stand in my path." the she-cat spoke bitterly, her ears pressed close against her head._

_"I don't doubt you, my Princess." the servant mewed, unfazed by the she-cat's rudeness._

_"I'll bet Pegard was behind this," the she-cat muttered. "First he arranges me to be paired off with his golden boy, Claw, and then he betrays my family. He sends out his troops to rid of us."_

_The ginger she-cat growled, turning to face her servant. "He and his entire family will sink, whether I'm dead or alive to see it."_

"Good work," Bella praised, letting out a series of low pants. "You're _almost_ as good as me."

Sleetkit's ears pricked, surprised by her approval. "Thank you, Bella." he mewed, taking a moment to groom his fur. She noticed that he was barely tired, and that he could still keep going if he needed.

"We should head back now, before your father-"

"Wait," Sleetkit cut her off, his troubled blue gaze looking up at her. "Can I ask you something?" the tom looked worried, this was a side of him that she had never seen before.

"Yes?" the she-cat asked with caution, unsure of what the kit was going to ask. Her heart began to beat faster, what if the kit had told his father about their training sessions? What if he didn't want to be around her anymore?

The rage was already beginning to boil, and she was ready to explode.

"Do you... hate _me_?" the tom finally asked, his eyes wide; innocent.

Bella was caught off-guard, an uncomfortable wave of emotion crawling all over her. At times like these she wished she could escape to a secret cache, or at least sink into the earth and disappear.

"No, of course not!" the she-cat exclaimed. "Why would I?"

"You've told me that you hate all Clanners, and that Clanners are evil." the tom mewed, his kit-like voice returning. He stared down at his paws. "My mama is a Clanner, and that makes me one. That means you hate me."

"No, no, no." Bella moved closer to the tom, giving him a lick on the ear, a very rare sign of affection from her. "You are strong, intelligent and brave. You are unlike any Clanner that has come before you, or that will come after. You have me, and that means you are _good_."

Sleetkit looked up at her, excitement returning to his eyes. "Really?"

Bella purred, crouching down. "Yes," she mewed. "I would never lie to my little Prince."

_"TacoClan," the brown tom reported to her. "That's what they're called."_

_"TacoClan?" the she-cat repeated, disgust in her mew. "What kind of name is that?" the she-cat's voice was brittle, many moons had passed since her pampered life in the mountains was still a living reality. It had changed her._

_"Yes, perhaps we could look into joining. It could be your first step in gaining your strength back," the tom suggested. "From there, the NightBloods could rise again!" the tom was excited, perhaps too excited._

_"Do you really think that would work?" the fallen Princess snapped at him, her green eyes flashing. "We could never take them all on, whether we join or not. We'll have to destroy them another way."_

_"Destroy them?" the tom was taken by surprise. "Surely all we need to do is cast them out, right?"_

_"No," the she-cat growled. "We make sure they all die. We don't want any survivors escaping and plotting revenge, do we?" the she-cat's voice was cold, matching her hardened expression._

_"I suppose not, Princess Bella."_

Bella watched as Sleetkit excitedly padded back into Hougan's Camp, not hesitating to leap upon Dusk-kit and start a play fighting session with his brother. It appeared that the tom couldn't read past all of her chicanery after all.

It was true that the tom was filled with lies, believing that Clanners were nothing but evil, and that she had some unnatural grudge against them. Even if all she had told him wasn't true, it didn't mean she didn't truly care for the kit.

She wouldn't let herself feel sorry for him, no matter how much honestly cared. Sleetkit would grow up to be one of the strongest cats that had ever walked these woods, she would make sure of it.

After all, Sleetkit was a NightBlood Prince, through and through, whether he knew it or not. He would make the Clanners _and_ the ColdBloods sink.

She was prepared to swear by it.


	3. Father

Jaci's ginger fur appeared to be a giant thistle, spiked in anticipation of what was to come. Her gaze held little emotion as she stared out into the darkening sky. A slight breeze stirred something inside of her, some deep emotion that she had only recently discovered; an emotion that she didn't seem to care for. Or at least didn't want to.

"Miss Jaci?" a rumbling voice came from behind her.

The young ginger she-cat instinctively turned at the sound of the servant's voice, not expecting him to be there. She would never would expect the large tom to be there, not behind her. Not talking to her on his own terms. At least, not with Maelstrom trailing not far behind.

"Miss Jaci?" the older cat repeated, his voice as stoic as ever.

_Shackle._

The tom was as strong as his name implied, a large, sharp-featured cat of many moons. Hard-eyed and hard-pawed, his gray fur pricked slightly. It appeared to faintly glow silver, as the sun began to set.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, expecting bad news; the usual. If not, perhaps her older brother had given an order for her to come back. She started to doubt that theory, knowing her brother was most focused on matters other than her.

"I should be asking you that," the older tom rumbled, look down upon her with his stony eyes. "You seem to be distant lately." Shackle mewed, his voice held the slightest bit of concern. "Is something troubling you?"

"No," Jaci replied, far too quickly.

Shackle didn't respond, he simply looked upon her with a disappointed gleam in his gaze. She could tell that he knew she was keeping something from him.

Jaci felt a jabbing pain, a pain unlike any she had felt before. She had lost Jenner to Jessie because of her own vanity and stupidity, she wasn't as strong as Mackerel or Twister, and it was clear that she was a disappointment compared to her brother.

Despite all of these things, disappointing Shackle seemed to hurt the worst. He was one of the first cats she could call a friend, and he has since grown to be much more than that. Maybe it was because she looked up to the tom, and hated him seeing her at her worst.

Maybe it was because he was one of the few cats that was special to her.

"I'm sorry," Jaci murmured, gradually beginning to stare at her paws, feeling like a kit. "I just... haven't been as happy as used to be, lately." the ginger she-cat admitted, her ears quickly growing hot as she tried to explain how she felt.

She could see Shackle awkwardly shift, she wondered how he was reacting to this.

"It's okay," the dark gray tom soothed, clearly unsure on how to handle the situation. "You have six other cats here who care deeply for you, and wouldn't let anything bad happen to you."

Jaci smiled, rushing forward to press against the large tom. It was crazy how the servant always knew what to say to make her feel better, and how to say it. Perhaps he did have all the secrets to the universe after all.

"Thank you, Shackle. You big lump!" Jaci felt relieved, at least for the moment. It reminded her of the days when it was just her, Shackle and Maelstrom. It reminded her of the happy times she shared with Jenner and Mackerel. It was as if every happy memory she had came back to her at this single moment, only to shatter into pieces once the young tabby pulled away.

"You're welcome, Miss Jaci." Shackle mewed, still keeping his calm demeanor despite her sudden rush of happiness she had just inflicted upon him. "I'm glad I could make you feel better."

"Shackle, I just want you to know that you're my biggest best friend ever!" Jaci told him, stepping from out her façade of self-pity. The feisty, farcical nature that she once was known to have returning.

"I'm sure that you have other, much bigger friends," Shackle told her, his nose wrinkling in amusement. "You're very close to Jenner and Jessie."

"Oh, them." Jaci wasn't sure how to respond to that. Jenner and Jessie were her friends, but being near the two lovebirds only made her feel queasy on the inside. It almost made her feel like an expecting queen.

"They are my friends, and always will be." the ginger tabby finally continued, staring up at Shackle with wide green eyes. "But, you are my _biggest_ friend, literally!" Jaci giggled.

_Oh, Jaci, you still have it!_

"You're also the only cat that really listens to me, and you always watch out for me and hang out with me and-" Jaci was out of breath as she continued to think of reasons why Shackle was her best friend.

"I mean, it's almost like you're my dad!"

Shackle's expression changed, his features almost looked confused. "But, I'm not your father, Jaci."

Jaci playfully rolled her eyes, batting him with her paw. "I know that, silly goose. You're not my _real_ dad. He and my mom are just distant memories now, they just gave me up without a care, really." Jaci reminded him. "I've basically been raised by you guys, all of you. Each of you has taught me so much, especially you!"

"I mean, I love you guys!"

"Love?" Shackle was taken aback, he was unsure on how to interpret the word from the she-cat. Was she being equivocal or was she being serious? With Jaci, you could never be too sure.

"Of course! Why wouldn't I? I mean, without you guys I would probably be dead in some ditch somewhere. You all mean so much to me, even if I don't act like it." the ginger she-cat promised, truth echoing in her mew.

Shackle didn't answer, unsure of what to make of this, Though he did inwardly agree that the bubbly she-cat would be dead without them. Dead, or living a normal life back where she was born, with her parents and littermates. He hoped the latter.

"I'm not sure how I can get you to believe me," Jaci mewed, disappointed. "I guess whether you do, or you don't, I just want you to know that I really am grateful for you. You, and everyone else are my family, whether you guys like it or not!"

"Mackerel is like my mom, she's always looking out for me and the good of the group." Jaci said, thoughtfully raising her head. "Maelstrom is my brother, obviously. That would make Jessie and Twister my sisters! They're great friends and give me decent advise, I suppose."

"Jenner..." Jaci was stuck on the dusky brown tabby for awhile, unsure of what he would be considered. Shackle had offered 'Brother', but considering some things, that would just be a tad too weird.

"Let's just say he's a really distant cousin, _really distant_." Jaci emphasized, hoping that she made that clear. She also hoped she wasn't making it obvious that she still was awkward on the subject of Jenner. She knew she probably shouldn't be, considering he was mooning over Jessie now, but she couldn't help it.

"That leaves me," Shackle noted, looking down at the young she-cat. "Who am I to you?" He expected the she-cat to answer instantaneously, but the small she-cat seemed to do the exact opposite mulling it over for an uncharacteristically long time.

Shackle finally decided to speak, keeping his serious attitude throughout. "Your father, perhaps?"

Jaci grinned, almost hopping up-and-down in her excitement. "I thought you would never say so!" she bounced around the older tom happily, her fur fluffed out against the occasional cold breeze.

Shackle was unsure whether he should be amused by the excitement of the she-cat or annoyed, it appeared the was just another one of her little schemes that she had just to get him to admit to be her father. Was she really that happy about it? Did she really love him? Was he more than just a simple servant to her? The dark gray tom could almost say yes, but then he was reminded that the young tabby was naughty and quite possibly insane. Not a very good combination to trust.

Jaci blinked up at Shackle, her innocent gaze was a lit flame. "Do you believe me now?

"It's getting dark, we should head back soon." Shackle mewed, skipping over her question. He blinked down at her, as if telling her not to argue. He then began to realize, that despite everything, he cared for the innocent ginger tabby, no matter how annoying or daft she could be.

After all, he was like her father, whether he agreed to it or not.


End file.
